


Under Thy Own Life's Key

by Ivy_of_Arcana



Category: RWBY
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, F/M, Fall of Beacon, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Some romantic feelings implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_of_Arcana/pseuds/Ivy_of_Arcana
Summary: After the Fall of Beacon, the teachers are left to clean up the school, and recover from that horrid night.Port and Oobleck as friends (romantic intentions left up to the reader); Glynda and Ironwood as exes, and Glynda and Ozpin as lovers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic was original posted on the RWBY Amino. You can find some of my other RWBY fics there as well. 
> 
> The title is taken from Shakespeare's play "All's Well that End's Well". The entire quote reads, "...Keep thy friend under thy own life's key." It means to keep a friend safe, even at expense of your own life; I thought it was fitting for this fic.

"Bartholomew, if you turn that coffee maker on, I swear I will beat you."

The disheveled green-haired professor paused in the act, a look of disappointment sweeping across his face. He had been so careful; he had made sure to look nonchalant as he had inched up to the machine....

"I'm not sure that's an adequate threat, Glynda," a voice chuckled from across the room. This was from Peter Port, who was lounging on a beat-up futon that had been scavenged from an abandoned building after the fall of Beacon. Necessity had dictated that the trio furnish the cramped apartment they were staying in with furniture left behind by the fleeing occupants of neighboring homes. "I'm certain ol' Barty would love a taste of your -"

Peter was interrupted by the simultaneous glares of Glynda Goodwitch and Bartholomew Oobleck. He continued chuckling, and put his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. It was only a joke. We all know Barty is married to his work."

"Of course I am," Oobleck murmured, looking indignant. He opened a cupboard above the coffee machine and surveyed his non-caffeinated options in distaste. "Hot chocolate is okay, right?"

Glynda sighed. She grabbed a folding chair from the open kitchen and sat it down across from Port. "Yes. The damage control for that is minimal." She lowered herself into the chair slowly, exhaustion etched into the lines of her face.

There was relative silence as Oobleck prepared his nightly drink of - well, unfortunately, not coffee. After a moment, he joined his friends in the small living room, electing to sit next to Port. "You know, you never used to complain about my coffee habits at Beacon."

Glynda rolled her eyes. "That's because we didn't have to live in close quarters with you then."

Yes, it was close quarters indeed. The three had jumped on the first opportunity they could find for shelter, which turned out to be a two-bedroom apartment in a complex near Beacon. Due to the disaster that had taken place months ago, the price had been lowered significantly from the norm - no one wanted to live close to the haunted school anymore. The majority of the other apartments in the complex had been abandoned too, and admittedly, it would have been simple for the three to live apart from each other. However, living together seemed the most beneficial at the time; each could keep a direct eye on each other's safety. However, there were always going to be drawbacks when a caffiene-addict, a pompous wind bag, and a borderline OCPD matriarch lived together.

"I'm not that bad," Oobleck protested, while simultaneously trying to quell the rapid tapping of his foot. It had already taken a tremendous amount of self-control to divert his boundless energy into that single appendage.

Port's voice boomed out in laughter. "You know, I don't understand how you are still so energetic. I'm personally exhausted."

"Same," Glynda murmured, shaking her head. "It's been a long day."

Oobleck shrugged. "It's always a long day."

He was right, of course; no one could deny that. The days had all been equally terror-filled and tiring. Even though there had been some students that stayed to help, ridding Beacon of Grimm had been a near impossible task. Each morning started with the realization that one might not reach the night safetly. So far, there had been no casualties, but the trio was weakening fast. It was difficult to go on when each day resulted in new wounds to clean. Even now, Oobleck could feel the scarring from the Beowolf's swipe down his side; he also noticed Glynda's ripped garters and Port's reluctance to lean on his right shoulder.

"And it'll be a long day tomorrow," Glynda murmured in agreement. She stretched, wincing at some phantom pain. "I'm going to get showered and dressed for bed. Who wants the futon tonight?"

"I think it's my turn," Oobleck answered. "And I thought I'd stay up a bit and read anyway." The tapping of his foot had returned.

"Sounds alright to me." Glynda stood up. "I'll be back in a few, make sure to tuck both of you in." Her voice had softened, and a smile crept onto the corners of her mouth. She left the room with a nod.

The two men watched her leave.

"You know, I forgot how beautiful she is," Port murmured a moment later.

"Yes." Oobleck's voice was soft, and Port looked surprised that he had agreed. The thought was supposed to be forbidden to them, or so they had decided early on. "But she was always Oz's girl," Oobleck continued, "Which was probably why she was able to put up with him so much."

"I was always astounded by that, you know? Ozpin didn't seem her type, not when you consider her history with James."

Oobleck nodded. He fidgeted with his now-empty mug. "Ozpin. She won't tell us what happened."

"I suppose she'll do that when she feels that it's time, old chap," Port stretched out his giant girth, yawning.

"Yes. But I feel like it's wrong to bottle it up....." a thought struck Oobleck. "Hey, Peter. Do you ever think about what happened that night?"

Port blinked. "Uh, not really. The past is the past is the past, you know."

"I do. Think about it, I mean."

"I'm supposing you're analyzing it for a new history book."

"No. I have nightmares. Like the ones I had when I was in the orphanage, before we met each other."

"Oh." A look of genuine concern flitted across Port's face. "Do you....uh....want to talk about it?"

"Yes," Oobleck sighed, "Yes, I think I would."

* * *

 "Will someone tell me what in the world is happening?"

Port and Oobleck sat, frozen in disbelief. Only two nights before, the Vytal Festival had been running smoothly; now, a girl lay ripped into mechanical parts. There had been the saccharine voice on the intercom, which was terrifying enough, but now -

The Grimm alert siren started blaring.

If there had been any room for calm, it was now gone. The masses that had flocked to the Vytal stadium in excitement left it screaming in terror. Port glanced over to watch his green-haired friend push his glasses hurriedly up to the bridge of his nose. In many circumstances, that gesture was one of thoughtfulness or intrigue; but this time it clearly was a nervous preparation for eminent danger.

The grey figure of Ironwood strode heavily into the announcer box. If there had been any doubt to his authority, it was gone now.

"Ladies and gentleman, please....there is no need for panic..."

Ironwood's suggestion went unheeded as a gigantic Nevermore crashed into the rooftop barrier of the stadium.

Oobleck and Port glanced at each other. This was going to be nasty; but the slight glint in Port's eye revealed the hidden excitement at the impending battle. Oobleck sighed, and turned when he heard the faint beeping of Ironwood's scroll. The usually stoic General's face flashed with a look of pallid fear.

"Ozpin....the girl....I can explain...."

Oobleck and Port were unable to distinguish the reply; however, what was said was potent enough for Ironwood to straighten up back into his militaristic manner and rush out of the box.

Oobleck fiddled with his coffee canteen. "I suppose we should go fight that thing when it breaks in."

"Of course we will! And try to sound more excited - battle is a glorious thing."

Oobleck squinted at Port. "You are way too excited for this."

"Hey, you get all excited about your dumb history books - it's only fair for me to have something to get excited over!"

"History isn't du-"

Port put a hand on Oobleck's shoulder, interrupting him. "You know, as much as I want to argue with you right now," Port's eyes twinkled in amusement, "We should really go make sure those kiddos don't get themselves hurt. Oh, that's it, I'll make you a bet. If you kill more Grimm, I'll take back what I said. If not, you say that I'm right,” Port grinned.

"Fine, fine. But I'm going to kill more." Oobleck rolled his eyes, but couldn't resist a smile.

"Then let us go be heroes, Barty!"

It took longer than expected to rush down the several flights of stairs to the main floor of the stadium. Port had been extremely dissatisfied with the non-working elevators, but had renewed strength at the thought that there might be Grimm on the staircase. This turned out to be true; the barrier had been broken, and the Grimm had been attracted to the screaming, fleeing masses. Port roared with excitement as he shot down low-swooping Griffons with his blunderbuss.

Oobleck had sprinted ahead of Port and was trying to clear citizens from being trampled. He glanced back up at his joyous companion. Naturally, Port was laughing as he struck down Grimm. This was the difference between the two teachers: Port was a hunter because he wanted to fight Grimm, and Oobleck was a hunter because he wanted to save people. Though to be honest, it was this difference that made the pair a dynamic duo, even from the time they were kids together. Their personalities flowed naturally together to create an utterly disjointed - but still functioning - powerhouse. It was this reason that they had been hired together to work at Beacon in the first place.

After a while, they managed to reach the main floor of the stadium.

A spray of young hunters and huntresses had gathered on the stage; the Nevermore that had been on the rooftop had disappeared.

"By Oum," Oobleck exclaimed, "They look like they're doing a photoshoot!"

They did indeed. For whatever reason, the students had decided to line up in such a way that looked like they were posing for a picture. Oobleck figured that they were doing this as either a threatening stand against the Grimm or a gesture of unity - or both - but admittedly, it looked rather funny to him.

"We should probably send them off. I think we've got this," Oobleck murmured, gripping his flamethrower.

"Don't want to risk the kiddo's lives, yeah," Port grinned. He was soon distracted by a griffon hurtling towards the students. "I call it!”

Boom.

The unlucky griffon was blown aside by the impact, and the lucky Ruby Rose, the previous target of the Grimm, looked up to see her two teachers.

"Students!" Port's voice thundered throughout the stadium, "I think it would be best for you to leave."

Of course, the two teachers had expected protest; Ruby Rose very quickly fulfilled this expectation.

"But-"

"Miss Rose!" Oobleck interrupted, "This day will surely go down in Remnant's history. I'd prefer if my students could live to tell about it." This was true; but Oobleck had omitted the thought that had been on his mind since the sirens first blared. He may not live to tell about this. It was frightening - Oobleck had always known that the life of a hunter was perilous, but like anyone else, he had put the idea of his own mortality out of his head for as long as possible. And to be honest, he did not want to think of it now....to think of dying at the hands of an enemy he did not even know.

But it couldn't be all bad, right?

He had Peter.

Port, ignorant of Oobleck's thoughts, beamed at his friend. He took a glance up at the Grimm-infested sky and shouldered his weapon.

"One final match, Barty! Place your bets!"

_If you only knew, my friend._

Oobleck pushed down the thought from springing into the open and fired up his weapon. "I already placed my bet! History is NOT DUMB!"

Port chuckled. "We'll see about that!"

Side by side, they faced their foes.

* * *

 "Forty-Two!" Oobleck shouted, blanketing a swooping griffon in fire.

It had been almost an hour now since of the beginning of Port and Oobleck's stand; unfortunately, the Grimm had not stopped coming. To be honest, most of that time had been spent trying to override the main stabilization controls on the stadium in an attempt to keep it from being hacked. There would be rather large consequences if the stadium had been ordered to drop out of the sky and unto Vale. Thankfully, this task had been successful; what was unfortunate was that all the stadium's airships had left in the meanwhile. The two teachers were now abandoned in the stadium. They had called for an airship, but the closest one had reported that it was under fire and would take some time arriving.

"That's not too bad for a shrimpy book nut like yourself! But I," Port roared, lobing his axe into an approaching Grimm- "Am standing pretty at forty-three!"

Oobleck's response was to coat the now-overkilled Grimm with fire. “Forty-three."

"That was my kill! He had my axe buried in his cranium!"

Oobleck chuckled warily. He swung his flamethrower - an arc of fire, a defeated foe. "Hey, Peter."

One griffon got in dangerously close range of Port before it was beheaded. "Barty ol' pal?”

"How long before you think we'll see that ship?"

"Hopefully soon!" Port thundered, aiming at another approaching Grimm.

Oobleck sighed in exhaustion, and turned away to face his own opponents in just time to hear the sickening crack behind him.

The scream immediately afterwards was not that of a Grimm's.

"Peter!"

Oobleck swung around, his heart palpitating wildly in his chest. Port had been knocked to the ground by the full weight of a griffon. Oobleck watched as the griffon evaporated - it had flung itself into the path of Port's axe. However, it then became apparent that the impact had caused Port's grip to slip and the opening of his blunderbuss to slam against his ribs. The magnitude of the force had caused the breakage of at least one.

Oobleck ran over to Port, dropping to help him. Before his wounded companion could protest, Oobleck had pried Port's shirt up, looking for damage. There was no bleeding, but he had already started to bruise, purple splotches spreading rapidly.

Oobleck managed to catch a breath. It wasn't the worst injury, but....

The Grimm had taken special notice; they could smell the pain.

"By Oum, Barty, they'd better get the damn ship up soon."

Port was already trying to raise himself up, his now-pallid face drenched in sweat. Oobleck, who had noticed this, shouted him down.

"Stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"I'll be a lot worse off if I just let the Grimm trample me!"

"I'm going to protect you!" As to prove his point, Oobleck swung his flamethrower in a motion that set three griffons ablaze. He glanced around him - more Grimm had taken notice, and were swooping to meet the pair.

Port growled, and clenching his teeth, used his weapon as support to bring himself to a painful standing position.

"By Oum, you sound like my wife!"

Oobleck's face flashed with fury as he watched Port stagger to his feet. There were too many Grimm, he was going to get hurt, and by the way - "You don't have a wife!"

"IF I DID, YOU'D BE HER!"

"THAT'S THE DUMBEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!" Oobleck yelled back, his face contorting with anger as he eliminated more Grimm. It wasn't anger at Port, but rather at the situation, and the Grimm, and the faceless enemy who dared wage war against his friends.

Just then, a foreign but miraculous noise buzzed across the sky.

"They didn't forget about us!" Port laughed triumphantly, hurting himself in the process. He bent over double, wheezing.

The ship was beginning to land, and Oobleck rushed to Port's uninjured side to support him.

A few Atlesian cadets, too young to be in war, but too unfortunate to be informed of this fact, rushed out to meet them. The next moments were quick - the two Beacon teachers were boarded on the ship before either could completely process what was happening. Port was laid down, and Oobleck refused to leave his side even after the medical bots were rushed in.

"Barty...." Port stared up at his friend from his cot.

"Yes?"

"I think you won the bet."

Oobleck's hands were still trembling from the aftershock of the battle, but he still managed to smile. "I don't think that's important."

"A deal is a deal," Port rumbled. "History isn't stupid."

Oobleck looked down at his frustratingly pompous, long-winded, and always argumentative friend. At any other moment, he might have relished that small victory. But now, he was too overwhelmed to do so - no, actually, he was not. He was relishing a victory, but a different one.

He hadn't lost his best friend.

Oobleck put a hand softly on Port's shoulder. Even if this was only a minor scare, and the battle had only began, he was glad. The two looked at each other before an Atlesian officer interrupted, having come in the check up on the two.

"Sirs. We are glad to help. Is there any nearby hospital or shelter you wish to be relocated to?"

"No, I think we need to make it back to Beacon. Please drop us there as soon as possible." This was from Port, which surprised the officer.

"Sir, you are injured -"

"As long as the battle is lively, so am I."

Oobleck glanced back down at Port. As much as he would prefer his companion stay and rest, he knew that Port would not be persuaded. In fact, he could remember several times when Port had refused to leave a battle while injured.

Port looked up and grinned. "Come on, Barty. It'll just be like old times."

"You know, I'd prefer if you didn't go out and put yourself in harms way."

"Aw, that's no fun."

Oobleck rolled his eyes, and sat down next to his friend. He could hear the booming of explosives outside of the ship, and the black sky was spotted with flashes of fire.

The night was not over yet, of course.

But Peter was alright for now, and that was enough.

* * *

 "For a moment, I was afraid I was going to lose you, you know."

Oobleck was still tapping his foot, but it had admittedly slowed a bit. The memory of that night was a burden to recall, and reemersing himself in it left him exhausted.

Port, too, seemed to be left silent by the memory. The usually talkative man was quiet, though it was clear that he was pondering something. 

After a moment, he spoke.

"We've been together a long time, haven't we?"

Oobleck nodded, his voice escaping softly. "Yes."

"I guess I've never really thought about it. I've never been afraid of dying myself, but it would be awful to have you die. I'd regret not being able to save you. So I can suppose that I do understand."

"What do you mean, you're not afraid to die?”

Port shrugged. "Death is inevitable. It's going to happen to everyone. I personally don't think it matters when it does."

Oobleck blinked. "I guess you're not wrong." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Saying it makes you sound arrogant, though. But no more than usual."

"I am not arrogant," Port huffed. "And for your information, I am actually afraid of certain things. I know you probably don't believe it, but I am."

"I'm curious. What is the almighty Port afraid of?"

Port glanced around, as if someone could be possibly trying to overhear the conversation. "You can't tell anyone."

"It can't be that bad."

"Promise?"

"Ugh, fine."

Port leaned over cautiously, and whispered into Oobleck's ear.

There was a split second of silence before Oobleck started choking with laughter. "You're - " He gasped in between bouts of laughter - "Afraid of.....oh my Oum....." Oobleck doubled over, pounding his fists into the unfortunate futon.

"But their tails -"

This statement seemed to amuse Oobleck, as he started laughing harder.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well boys, I thought you could behave on your own."

Glynda had come into the room. Her appearance had changed dramatically. Well, perhaps not dramatically, but her hair had been let down, which seemed to wash away the rigidness of her usual demeanor into something more gentle. She went and sat down in her former chair, the royal purple silk of her pajamas swishing against her as she moved. She began to brush her hair with the brush she had been carrying - long, rhythmic motions that were almost therapeutic to watch.

Oobleck straightened up, mostly recovered from his laughing fit. "Hey, Glynda."

"What were you boys talking about?"

Port and Oobleck glanced at each other, as if wondering whether or not to reveal the correct answer. There was a reason they had not talked about that night for so long.

"Actually....We were recalling the night of the Fall," Port replied, having decided that there was no reason not to admit that. It had been months - Barty was right, that was too long to hold those memories in.

The blonde huntress sighed, and leaned back in her chair. She had known this was coming. "You were, huh?"

"Glynda," Oobleck leaned forward, "What happened to Ozpin?"

"I...I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It means I don't know." Glynda had stopped brushing her hair; instead, she was running her fingers along the edge of the brush as to substitute for fidgeting. Her normally bright emerald eyes were clouded - from impending tears, exhaustion, or anxiety, one could not know.

After a moment of solemn silence, Glynda sighed. "But I'll tell you what I do know, however."

* * *

 

"Get to the city!"

The sirens had pierced the bleak sky long enough for Qrow and Glynda to realize what was happening. Both were in Beacon, having decided to stay away from the Amity Stadium to avoid the dense crowds and the growing sense of dread, and had incidentally ran into each other. The argument that had ensued at their meeting was that of the purpose of the confusing crime of Qrow's niece, Yang, but the wail of the sirens had put a quick end to this. There was no mistaking what was happening, and the duo had rushed to the first person they could think of, and ultimately, trust.

If they had been looking for relief in Ozpin's demeanor, they found it not. Instead, the spectacled face of their sage leader bespoke of fear.

"But -" Qrow tried to protest. Weren't they needed here?

"Now!"

Authority was not needed to reinforce the command - the panic in the voice did enough. Glynda and Qrow turned around immediately, heading back towards the elevator that brought them to Ozpin's lonely domain.

There was no time to think.

But there was plenty of time to feel...

Glynda had experienced panic a few times in her life, but none had quite been like this. At the times when she had felt panic, there was always someone else whose calm could serve as a emotional guide, a soft gesture that things would be alright. But not now - not when the man she trusted most had looked at her with blank eyes. He knew what was coming - and Glynda tried not to guess what that was.

Her heart thumped rapidly and precariously, and it was difficult to keep still in the elevator as it plunged down towards the city. But Glynda did, if only because she had to.

The elevator slowed to a halt, and the austere huntress flexed her riding crop. It was time.

The city that she and Qrow descended into was desolate and Grimm-infested. There were the echoing screams of fleeing citizens in the background; however, none could be seen. Were they hiding in their homes, or perhaps had already pursuing a path to safety? Glynda could not tell, for in the few first moments of emergence into the city, she was attacked by a swooping griffon.

It was her experienced reflexes that saved her, of course. Glynda had perfected the art of aura defense, due to the fact that her weapon was a rather inadequate means of defense on its own. The surge of aura that emulated from her was sudden and strong. A quick flick of her riding crop, the conduit for said aura, released a burst of violet tendrils that skewered the griffon simultaneously, causing it to dissolve.

"What's the plan?" Glynda yelled, glancing quickly at Qrow, who was busy defending himself from a Beowulf. She watched as the creature was sliced cleaning in half.

"Just stick close, I guess! And maybe -" Another Beowulf bounded, this time destroyed by both Qrow's scythe and Glynda's semblance. "Maybe call in reinforcements?"

Reinforcements. This obviously meant Ironwood's band of robotic goons. Whereas Glynda normally would be wary of these, she knew now that they would need help.

Yes, help.

There were too many to handle, even in the beginning moments of the fight. Every thought that swarmed into Glynda's mind was punctuated by another leaping Grimm, another release of aura.

It went on like this for longer than any hunter or huntress could ever wish for. Every minute was filled with mortal peril, as the swarm of Grimm into the city streets was relentless. They could sense the growing fatigue of the two warriors, and the lingering sense that they may not live through the night. Even when the Atlesian forces had joined the pair, the rest for Glynda and Qrow was short. The Grimm had tasted their fear, and they were hungry for it.

Still, they were not dead yet -

The thought was cut short as the Atlesian bots who had been aiding the pair turned around with glowing red eyes and started to fire on Glynda and Qrow.

"What?!"

Glynda barely had time to register the possibility of the change before dodging the incoming fire of the bots. Still, the implication was still clear: an army brought in by a somewhat hostile foreign power had turned against the kingdom of Vale. Of course, this could be through a means less than the obvious - however, it appeared as though Ironwood had ordered the attack. The feeling that came rushing along with the thought was that of a stabbing betrayal.

Glynda couldn't spend much time focusing on the feeling, however, considering that now that both the Grimm and the Atlesian military were trying to kill her.

"Glynda!"

"What?" Glynda responded to Qrow's summoning, trying not to divert too much attention away from her new attackers. Distraction on the battlefield could quickly turn deadly.

"Do you -" Qrow too was trying to focus on his opponents, slicing mercilessly with his scythe - "Do you think Ironwood did this?"

Glynda growled in frustration, the next wave of aura striking a bot savagely. "It seems like that!"

"Are you sure -"

"Of course I'm not sure!" She didn't want to think about it.

"Glynda, I know -" Qrow paused to take another swing at a Beowulf, "I don't think he did this, but you know him better than I do....I need to know what you think."

She had known him, hadn't she? That's why there was betrayal in her gut. It's why she could feel anger creeping into her every attack -

"I think the bots were reprogrammed. It's probably by the same people who let the Grimm in... Ironwood wouldn't do that, he hates the Grimm..." Qrow continued, his face consorted in worry. He was watching her reaction, Glynda realized.

Of course.

That made sense, didn't it?

It seemed clear now. James couldn't have done this. In fact, it seemed cruel that she would have doubted him before, doubted the man who was her former partner in Atlas... no, James was not evil. Misguided, perhaps, arrogant, but not evil.

And Ozpin had trusted him.

This last thought was what truly wiped the doubt away. Of course Ozpin wouldn't have trusted someone who had malignant intentions.

But with the doubt out of the way, the situation became phenomenally more dire.

Their enemy had enough power to hack into the Atlesian and Vale computer systems... and they had brought the Grimm...

"Shit." This was from Qrow, whose balance was suddenly shifted by a tremor reverberating through the ground. He glanced back at Glynda, who nodded. She had felt it too.

What's happening now?

There were more tremors, now increasing in magnitude. Glynda could feel them as strongly as she could feel the pounding of her own heart, the fatigue from her massive aura usage, and the new whisper of a thought that echoed in her mind. She watched as she and Qrow were joined by a few Beacon students, who had apparently realized that the adults were fallible and needed help. On one hand, this allowed her to get a few more milliseconds of rest before the next Grimm leapt at her, and on the other hand, this rest was amplifying that persistent whisper....

Where was Ozpin?

In a sudden wave of sound and shifting earth, a new tremor shook the streets. This one was so powerful that Glynda found herself having to stop and brace to keep from falling.

A roar echoed across the stygian sky.

No -

Qrow and Glynda glanced at each other, their silence revealing their fear. They both knew that roar, or at least, they knew what it meant.

By Oum, we're going to die.

Glynda whipped back towards her opponents; the Grimm and the infected bots seemed rallied by the roar. Their advance was much more mighty than she was at the moment - aura mostly gone, hope fading into the slithering shadows of the night, and that parasitic whisper, the one that haunted her mind with the possibility of death of the one she trusted most -

Glynda watched as one of the students, a mace-wielder, was saved by a sudden shot to his robotic enemy's head.

James.

Not the one she was hoping for, but a relief nonetheless. Ironwood, his shirt torn to reveal the bionic secret he kept, emerged from a neighboring alleyway, gun in hand. It took him a few seconds to accomplish what the fatigued Qrow and Glynda had been working at - to clear the street of foe.

"This area's secure! We need to -"

What occurred next happened too quickly to process in full: the menacing screech of Qrow's scythe, the pallid flash of Ironwood's face, the blood of the griffon pouring out as Qrow's weapon hit, the relief of the man who thought that he had been accused. Glynda watched, paralyzed to help. Perhaps she would have a different day, a day when her emotions weren't biting into her, ripping at her cognitive flesh.

"You idiot." Qrow scoffed at the confused General, "I know you didn't do this." Qrow nodded towards Glynda, a signal that Ironwood had her to thank for his life as well.

The General relaxed, his face falling to that of exhaustion. Glynda walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was a gesture of support, one that understood his weariness from battle. Whatever was happening, it was affecting all of them. Besides, she needed to feel him, to confirm that he was real, an old friend, and not the hypothetical maniac that she had feared he was prior.

Glynda found herself leaning against him, her aura gone. She hadn't meant to, but her fatigue was overwhelming. She barely heard Qrow's and Ironwood's next words through the haze fogging her mind - something about a ship? Was it about the ship that just burst into flames in the night sky, and was falling towards its doom?

The ground shook, and Glynda collapsed. It had been too difficult to stay standing in her present state.

"Glynda!"

Ironwood had pulled her up, his face frozen in worry. She could feel his hands griping her waist, refusing to let her fall again.

"We need to get you to safety. Find someplace safe -"

"No!"

"No?"

It had all come back to her, the reason why she was fighting, the cause of the fear in her heart, the whisper that had suddenly become a scream. Glynda pushed away from Ironwood, stumbling as she did so, but not falling this time.

"Ozpin. I have to....I have to see if he's alright."

Glynda registered the quick flash of disappointment on Ironwood's features, but she ignored it. She fought to straighten herself up.

"Glynda, you don't have any aura left. You can't go, you'll get hurt -"

"Don't tell me what to do, James!" It came out as a cry, more forceful that she had thought in her head. Still, it relayed her feelings perfectly, and Ironwood stared into the glossy emerald eyes that glared back. "I'm going to go."

Ironwood glanced back at Qrow, who gave a small shrug. "She's an adult, Jimmy. She'll be okay."

Ironwood turned back towards Glynda, his voice quiet, as to hide the emotions straining behind it. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know." With one glance back at her former partner, Glynda started to run.

* * *

 

And Glynda ran, heart pounding rapidly while her mind tried to force her to sleep. It was almost as she was drunk - her thoughts were twisted and jumbled, and she could barely balance as she moved. She found herself pulling off her heels and running barefoot, the bottoms of her feet scraping against the rough pavement. Her hair had unraveled, flying behind in a dirty wave of rubble, sweat, and blood. But still she continued to run. There was one word that cut through the haze, and that was what mattered.

She knew where'd he be. He'd be trying to turn the red-haired huntress into the new Fall Maiden. Hopefully he was successful, and that he was okay.

However, the feeling in her stomach spoke otherwise.

After a bit, there was Beacon, its spirals burning in the dark. The torpor that threatened her journey had not lessened, but it was now easier to ward off with the sight of her goal.

Almost there -

And there it was, a flash, a streak, rising from under Beacon and into the sky. The streak burned scarlet, like a cinder erupting into a flame... A figure laughing deliriously with newfound power.

Ozpin!

Glynda found herself in the lowest level of Beacon before her thought finished. Her eyes pierced the dark, looking, wondering -

No.

He was there, of course, and so was what she feared. Glynda collapsed next to the bloodied, twisted body, grabbing at the ruined clothes.

Ozpin's brown eyes stared back at her. He was not dead, not yet, but he would be soon. His spectacles lay crushed beside him, thin shards of glass coated in his own blood.

"Glynda," he heaved, his chest rising painfully as he struggled to speak. "Why....are you here...."

"I'm here to help!" Perhaps there was a way out of this, if only she could think of one -

"You can't. It's... my time..." Ozpin coughed, blood spluttering from his open mouth. He was trembling uncontrollably, and Glynda grasped his hand.

"Oz..."

"It's Salem, Glynda. A henchwoman of hers...she stole Amber's power-" There was another retching cough. "We fought..."

Glynda looked over the horribly broken body of Ozpin. She wanted to turn away, try to convince herself that it was a nightmare, but she couldn't. No, instead she could see the story written in the blood on the floor, how Ozpin and the thief had fought, how she had left him like this, broken, knowing he would die. Of course she hadn't killed him right off, it would have been more amusing to know that the mighty would die slowly and in unbearable pain. She had drained his aura, broken his body, and left him for his friends to find....for her to find...

"By Oum, Oz!"

"Glynda, you...please....please give my cane to Qrow. He'll know what to do..."

"Why Qrow? What aren't you telling me, Oz?" Glynda was now trembling as much as Ozpin was, as she glanced at his cane, fallen a few feet away on the floor.

"Do you remember... what I said... the first night we were together?"

"No -"

"I told you that I couldn't bear to see you get hurt..." Ozpin gasped for breath, and his hand clenched in pain. "I don't want to hurt you, Glynda."

"Then tell me!"

But it was already too late.

The hand of the mighty fell slack, and Glynda's eyes widened as Ozpin's clouded over. And in an instant, his body was slipping into ashes, disintegrating into nothingness. Glynda found herself grasping, grasping, trying to make him stay...

And like that, he was gone.

For a moment, there was no reaction worthy of the moment, the emotions Glynda felt. But then, she broke, the mask of the rigid huntress shattering in her grief.

She screamed, not out of fear, but out of desperation, a curse at the universe, the cry of an animal.

The tears came next, flowing in tracks down her dirt-caked face. She couldn't stop them. There was no stopping anything now.

He was gone.

Hands gripping the bloodied ground, she continued to sob. Her own fingers bled, cut by the jagged pieces of glass from Ozpin's spectacles. There was nothing, nothing...

A presence was felt behind her, trespassing on her intimate elegy. It walked up to her, placing a cold metal hand on her shoulder. For a while, nothing was said or acknowledged. She knew who it was; he would give her time to grieve.

She was calming down now, her energy slipping into some hopeless void. Her tears stopped flowing, her hands stopped trembling, and her mind, still clouded, pushed out the scream echoing in its recesses.

"You loved him, didn't you? As much as you loved me."

Glynda sighed, a whisper escaping her lips. "I daresay a bit more."

"I suppose I can understand that." James Ironwood knelt down beside her. "Let's go home, Glynda."

He looked over at Ozpin's fallen cane, and went to pick it up. Carefully, he handed it to his tear-stained comrade, and putting an arm around her waist, helped her stand.

Leaning on Ozpin's cane, and supported by Ironwood's arm, she walked out of the solemn grave of her love and into the moonlight.

* * *

 

"By Oum, Glynda."

Oobleck and Port were staring at her, their eyes round and misted. It had been difficult to watch Glynda struggle through the account; it had been clearly painful for her to recall.

"That's all, I guess. I gave the cane to Qrow, and I still don't know why Ozpin wanted that... but I've had time to think, and that doesn't matter. The man I knew is gone. As much as I wish it, life can't go back to normal."

Oobleck stood up and went to stand by Glynda. "I'm so sorry. I thought maybe, but I was hoping..." he didn't finish his sentence; he didn't need to. Ozpin was friend to them all.

Port stood up as well, following suit. "We're here. It'll be okay." His voice was musky, laced with both desperate optimism and sorrow.

"I know." Glynda sighed, but she gave the smallest of smiles. "I know. We'll continue to fight, to fight together."

"That's why we're here, aren't we?" Oobleck murmured, speaking the thought on all of their minds. There was a reason they had chosen to live together in these dark times when they could have easily separated. It was not just a matter of convenience or dispelling loneliness; no, it was something more than that. They needed each other. They needed to stick together, to protect one another against the odds. They needed their friends.

Glynda stood up, coming face to face with Port and Oobleck. Gently, she grasped their hands. "We stick together."

Port's deep voice joined in. "We fight together."

"And we don't lose anyone else." Oobleck's bright blue eyes sparkled under his glasses.

After a moment, they stepped away. They nodded their goodnights, and headed towards bed. They would need rest to prepare for the morning.

And when the morning came, they would defend their kingdom, strength renewed, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want me to post more of my RWBY fics, comment and let me know. :)


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